


Going Under

by Dorksidefiker



Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616, X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-10
Updated: 2013-01-10
Packaged: 2017-11-25 01:20:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/633580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dorksidefiker/pseuds/Dorksidefiker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Victor is less than pleased with both Santo and his current circumstances.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Going Under

Victor clung to his impromptu raft, one thought running through his head as it threatened to sink in the cold, choppy water. That thought, which refused to leave him alone even as he faced a truly unpleasant death by hypothermia in the cold, dark water was that he really, truly _hated_ Santo at that moment. This was all his fault, after all, so the hate was properly places.  
  
If he lived through this, he was going to kick Santo’s head right off his shoulders and all the way across the state.  
  
More cold water swamped the raft, and it would have knocked Victor right off and into the water if he hadn’t been using his powers to cling to the sodden wood. His teeth chattered, and his whole body shivered uncontrollably. He was soaked to the skin, and not even the special suit that Dr. McCoy had equipped him with could keep him from being frozen. He was going to end up being a lizard-cicle.  
  
Another swell finally knocked the crude raft apart, plunging him into the water and driving all thoughts of Santo from his mind. _I don’t want to die here…_   he thought as he tried to will some strength back into his limbs.  It was like his whole body was shutting down, unable to deal with the cold any longer; his lungs burned with the need to breathe, and he was suddenly, violently jerked through the water, his mouth opening for one final, fatal gasp-  
  
It took Victor’s poor, frozen brain several minutes to register the fact that a large, rocky arm had plucked him out of the sea and pulled him into the Blackbird, which was hovering low over the water. “Vic? Vic? Jesus Christ, say something.”  
  
Victor coughed weakly, dangling from Santo’s hand like a kitten caught by the scruff of it’s neck. “Never thought I’d be happy to see you.”


End file.
